Thailand Bets Big: Selling Its Culture, Not Just Tourism
Thailand wants to sell you experiences, not just Pad See Ew. But that’s not the radical part. What’s truly striking is the expectation that you’ll buy it. Suspended Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, in her role as Culture Minister, recently unveiled Thailand’s ambitions at the SPLASH — Soft Power Forum 2025. The goal: Elevate Thailand’s creative culture, focusing on cuisine, Muay Thai, and film. Her opening speech declared: “Creative culture is a soft power that is used all over the world. People are no longer interested in buying just products or services.” But are they interested in buying an identity, even a partial one, curated and sold by a nation-state?
This isn’t merely about picturesque tourism; it’s a calculated economic gambit, reflecting a growing awareness of cultural capital in a hyper-connected world. As the Bangkok Post reports, Thailand is investing in initiatives like “Thai Cuisina” to link global buyers with Thai food producers, and offering cash rebates to lure foreign film productions. The plan acknowledges a truth about globalization: you can’t simply be a culture; you have to compete as one.
Thailand’s soft power pivot points to a broader shift in global geopolitics. While military and economic muscle still matter, influence is increasingly won through cultural exports, shared values, and resonant narratives. Joseph Nye, who coined the term “soft power,” famously argued it’s about attraction, not coercion; agenda-setting, not reactive maneuvering. But it’s crucial to remember Nye’s original context: he saw soft power as an accompaniment to hard power, not a replacement. Thailand’s bet suggests a world where cultural influence is a primary driver, not just a supporting act.
Thailand’s emphasis on “locality” as a strength is particularly shrewd. In an age of algorithmic homogenization and globalized brands, the allure of authentic cultural experiences intensifies. Thailand’s history, traditions, and aesthetics offer a compelling alternative to Western cultural dominance. Yet, the challenge lies in effectively leveraging these assets without succumbing to cultural appropriation or superficial commodification. Can Thailand protect the very essence of its culture while transforming it into a global commodity? The balancing act recalls South Korea’s “hallyu” wave, which, while incredibly successful, has also faced criticisms of sacrificing artistic integrity for commercial appeal.
There’s a genuine risk. The relentless pursuit of soft power, divorced from genuine cultural exchange, can easily devolve into a cynical marketing ploy. If Thailand’s strategy is perceived as inauthentic or exploitative, it could backfire, damaging the cultural assets it seeks to promote. Are there safeguards to prevent predatory practices? Will local communities genuinely benefit, or will the profits accrue disproportionately to corporations and the elite? These are not abstract concerns; they speak to the very core of cultural sustainability.
Ultimately, Thailand’s soft power ambitions serve as a litmus test for a larger trend. Will nations increasingly compete through cultural influence? Can soft power be strategically engineered, or does it emerge organically from genuine cultural expression? And, crucially, can a nation preserve its cultural identity while simultaneously projecting it globally? The answer, I suspect, isn’t found in meticulously planned programs alone, but in cultivating a dynamic and authentic creative ecosystem that resonates globally. But more than that: it lies in a fundamental question of what culture is in an age where everything, even identity, is for sale.
